By That Sin
by March and September
Summary: Roma is called out on service, leaving Feliciano and Lovino to take care of themselves. This is stressful enough, but then they are called to House of Angels. An amazing company of the world's brightest young minds. They do the common teenage stuff here; fall in love, get hurt, grow up, and deal with an inter-dimensional crisis. Vital warnings: sexual abuse, sexual connotation
1. Author's Note:

Author's Note:

Hi, guys! I PROMISE I will not take down this story!

I took down two stories recently, and I know it makes me seem unreliable.

The thing is that the two I took down were actually things I'm writing on the side. Hence, I did not want to write the full story on , then on the off chance of trying to get it publicized, having to take them off the website. I am really sorry about my disorganization lately. I'm working on a few projects at the moment, so my writing here has taken its toll. I am trying to get everything to work, though. Thank you all for your support.

Also, one of my fan fictions called 'Dead War' has been inactive for a while. This is because I'm trying to edit all of it, so it'll probably take a while before its up and going again.

The Name: the name "By That Sin" came from Shakespeare's King Henry The Eighth. There's a quote that goes,

"I charge thee, fling away ambition,

By that sin fell the angels."

So, it sort of foreshadows the antagonist's greed and such.

Also, I must admit that the name 'House Of Angels,' and a lot of inspiration for the plot came from the song: _'House of The Rising Sun'-Animals_. (It's a beautiful song. I suggest giving it a listen.)

Okay!

So this story!

Vital Characters: Lovino Vargas and Feliciano Vargas, Roma Antiqua (His last name will be Vargas, in this story, though), Ludwig and Gilbert Beilschmidt, Roderich Edelstein, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.

Genres: this is a bit difficult! This is a rash story of mine! (Don't worry, I will hold true to it), but there will definitely be romance, and hurt/comfort, and adventure. Science Fiction is almost guaranteed, because, well, it's me.

(So don't be surprised by aliens or anything of that nature!)


	2. Sea (A kind of prologue)

The sea sometimes reached out and foamed at his toes. It called to him with a soothing soft whisper.

He was drunk, and it was night. His body begged him to lie down. He felt heavy and tired; but he didn't want to stop watching the sea.

He could hardly make out anything in the dark, but he could see that the ocean was as overwhelming and tempting as ever.

His head rolled, and he fell into the soft sand.

The sea would come and make his body cold.

He could only wish to awaken in the middle of it by day. Engulfed into its intoxicating universe.

He couldn't help but dribble a bit when the slightly salty breeze teased his mouth and nose.

His heart beat quickly, and his cheeks warmed.

He knew the sea was only a replica of love's guise.

The senses flooded back into him; and the depression pushed down again.

He knew that wholeness was far, far away. So far, it was another world to Lovino.

His body tingled and he fell into sleep.


	3. Services

_"Blah!" _

Lovino rolled around in the scratchy sand and growled.

His lips cracked when he moved them. He couldn't believe how thirsty he was.

He stood his wobbly body up.

The magnificent song _Rose Rosse _by _Massimo Ranieri _danced beautifully into the morning sky. It was coming from a sailboat off in the distance.

Hazel eyes squinted in the heat.

The romantic song only made him angrier. To be in what he considered the most romantic place on earth, hung-over and alone; well it was a shame.

His cheeks flamed a dark red as he noticed a humiliating fact: he was stood in the middle of a beach, in Palermo, Sicily.

Tourists were _everywhere. _

People were everywhere.

He shoved his fists into his tan khaki pants and hurried away from the crowd, down the streets, to their family's vacation home.

Lovino hesitated outside of the yellow house. He had a small fear that his grandfather would be inside, ready to punish him, but this was unlikely.

He sighed, and opened the unlocked wooden door.

Luckily, his grandfather wasn't in the living room. His brother was cooking in the kitchen, though.

"Oh, Lovi!" His awkwardly giddy voice called from the kitchen. "I'm making rolls. You want marmalade on yours, right? – _Oh, _and a cappuccino."

"Yeah, of course," he replied briefly, his throat stinging. "And water."

"_Caffè con liquore?" _His brother giggled.

"God, no," Lovino licked his lips. His brother giggled again.

Lovino went into the polished kitchen. Of course, his brother was dirtying the place up. It didn't annoy him, though. It warmed him. He loved to see his brother in such a blissful mood.

Still, he booted Feliciano's backside as he entered the kitchen, because that was the sort of things siblings tended to do.

Their grandfather emerged a moment later.

Lovino was surprised that he had woken up so early. He probably had smelled the rolls.

Roma looked hung-over and depleted, but he still grinned and sat down at the bar in front of the kitchen.

Lovino held his breath, praying that Roma hadn't found out he had been out until the morning.

Roma went on laughing and lolling with Feliciano. The older brother let out a sigh of relief.

Their grandfather usually trusted Lovino to get home safely, and didn't wait up for him at night.

The trust was a worrisome thing, though. It meant he wouldn't get worried during a time that Lovino could really need it.

They sat down at the bar. Roma and Lovino gorging themselves with water. It was quite unattractive.

Feliciano tried to smile politely, but they looked like two bears trying to lick the last bit of honey out of a beehive.

Their tongues reached in and slurped the last drops of water.

"Well," Roma exhaled heavily, put down the glass and tapped his fingers on the bar.

"It's a shame, isn't it? Leaving Italia-"

"But we'll be back before school starts again," Feliciano interjected happily.

Roma frowned.

The boys became quietly.

"You know, boys..." their grandfather spoke slowly, and solemnly, "I'm afraid that I've been called to service for a while…"

Lovino's right hand began to shake. He could dread the situation all he wanted, but it was unavoidable. People couldn't get out of service.

Feliciano began speaking in spasmodic squeals and half-witted solutions.

He also began to cry.

Lovino felt the intensity of the moment. He looked at his sobbing brother in disbelief, and at his grave grandfather in disbelief.

He grew anxious of what would become of him and his brother.

Roma was the only family they had. Where could they go?

He had never appreciated the fatherly hand of Roma, because Roma wasn't very fatherly for Lovino. But now it was like a clear path was laid before him, and it was utterly lonely. There would be nobody to protect him. Even at sixteen, it suffocated him. He choked a bit, looked at Feliciano, and began to lightly cry.

"Now, boys," Roma put his hand on Feliciano's back. "I'm an old man. I'm sure I won't be gone too long."

"You're not _that _old!" Lovino countered.

This was true. Roma was fifty-four.

"Yes, but what will they make out of a man like me?" Roma snorted, trying to stop the boys' crying. "Boys, I won't be gone too long, I promise. A year at most. They want me there for damned political reasons. You know your old man's a secretary-general." It was true. He worked in the U.N.

Lovino clenched his teeth together. He felt objectified to this broad-termed _"service." _To be called to service was not optional. He felt disempowered, and _sold. _And by whom? Who even issued these _'services?' _

A young man out of school could be called to service, and so could an old operations researcher.

"How stupid!" Lovino protested. He clenched his teeth tighter. A boiling fit of rage pulsating through him.

"Well, yes," Roma said calmly, "But there's no need to get stressed. I'll call everyday, and send lots of gifts."

Lovino shook his head. He couldn't seem to articulate why he felt the way he did. Feelings clumped into a mesh in his stomach and chest.

"Will, will, will we stay at home?" Feliciano babbled through his tears.

"Yes, you will," Roma reached his hand down to Feliciano's hand and squeezed, "Don't cry, Feliciano. I'm sure you and your big brother will have lots of fun. I'll check in on you everyday, I promise."

Roma looked down at Feliciano, and his eyes sparked with fondness for his grandson. Roma commonly looked at Feliciano with tenderness and pride.

Feliciano looked back and smiled, though tears kept running down his face.

Lovino's stomach grew sick. He sat there quiet. And the clear path that he was so sure of minutes ago hazed and clouded.

….

…..

...

The airport was even more emotional than breakfast. This was their final goodbye. Feliciano cooed, and cried, and laughed with Roma.

Roma made Feliciano promise he'd stay away from dangerous boys; Feliciano promised. Roma also made Feliciano promise that he'd only date hot boys; Feliciano promised.

Lovino groaned. He didn't want to think of his naïve fourteen-year-old brother with any boys.

Just as the plane was about to start boarding, Roma pulled Lovino to the side and hugged him.

"Now, Lovino," he looked down at the brunette, "We must have a very serious conversation."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I've left a debit card in my room, in my top drawer. That debit card is only for food and emergencies, do you understand?"

Lovino nodded slowly. The whole situation still seemed too sudden to be real. Like some sadistic writer wrote this all out, and it was a mere illusion. A dream of some sort.

"If you run out of money, I'll know you've been lollygagging in stores and throwing parties!" He got even more aggressive, "And that's just plain irresponsibility. You want to set that example for your brother?"

Lovino snapped in response, the whole day had been irritating enough.

"What the hell are you yelling about? I haven't done anything."

Roma sucked air through his teeth, and replied much calmer,

"Well, I'm just telling you. You'll call me if anything happens, won't you?"

Lovino agreed, wishing that this melancholy parting would end.

Roma gave Lovino a soft pat on the back, and watched his family board the plane.


	4. House of Angels

The two brothers walked out of the Miami scorch quickly and into their home.

Immediately, Lovino felt the house emptier.

Feliciano sat on their brown, leather couch. He sat there sadly.

Lovino ignored him, and walked through the red-carpeted home, up the stairs and into their grandfather's room.

The room was wide. In it sat a white king-sized bed. A window in the corner let in a small amount of bright light. Every inch of the room was tidy. And Lovino knew where Roma hid his liquor.

He had half the mind to sleep in there. But the thought of what Roma did in his bed drove that away.

He went into the drawers, and there sat his debit card. Lovino grinned wickedly.

"Lovino!" Feliciano cried shrilly.

His heart jumped. His body ran cold. Without even thinking about what happened, he shot down stairs and into the distraught Feliciano.

The brothers bounced off each other stupidly, and fumbled about in pathetic manner.

"What?" Lovino spat. He was _very _irritated now. "What the hell?"

Feliciano held out a letter and whimpered.

He snatched it from Feliciano, and sent him a furious glare.

Slowly, his eyes wandered to the letter in his hands.

He didn't have to read the whole thing.

_'YOU'VE BEEN SUMMONED TO YOUR POLITCAL ANALYST POSITION(s).'_

Lovino put the letter down. He tried to blink out of this dream. Could this have happened at a worst time?

…..

…

…

Lovino and Feliciano Vargas were staggeringly good at political analyst. They were very good at history, problem finding, and well, problem solving.

This wasn't unusual for their grandfather was a secretary-general. It was a tad unusual, though, because their grandfather disliked discussing politics.

They were selected to go to work at a place. The boys didn't know this place's name yet. It was hidden from common people; these common people could've found and disturbed the workers in this place otherwise.

It was place filled to the brim with the world's best young minds. Scientists, historians, problem solvers, mathematicians, economists, engineers, sociologists, anthropologists, physiologists, spokespeople…

The brothers stood in front of the shabby- _yet humongous,_ blue building and simultaneously sighed.

Lovino wasn't excited at all. He dreaded having all this responsibility on him.

Lovino was pretty sure Feliciano just hated getting up so early.

A middle-aged woman with red hair in a bun, and a plastic smile greeted them doors.

"Morning, gentlemen. May I see your letters?"

Lovino handed it to her grudgingly.

"Very good! May I please see your IDs, as well?"

Lovino pulled out his leather wallet and took out his driver's license.

"He doesn't have one. He's fourteen."

"Oh, _congratulations, _young boy." She smiled wider. "May I see his school ID?"

Lovino frowned. He felt embarrassed that they hadn't thought of that. Then he felt angry.  
"Are you kidding me, lady?" He growled. "He's obviously my brother. Look, the letter calls for both of us."

Her smile faded for a moment. Then it returned, and she faked sympathy. "I'm sorry, young man. I can't let him through without it."

Lovino pounded his wallet back into his pocket. He wanted to go off on this woman. _How stupid the whole thing was. _

He opened his mouth to yell, but then looked into her big eyes.

He groaned. He had a soft spot for harmless people. "_Fine." _

It was only a ten-minute walk, anyway.

How bizarre was it that this _place _was in Miami? Miami Beach, more precisely.

….

...

...

Inside teenagers bustled about.

The world dizzied because all of the commotion. Some ran, carrying giant models of Earth, and the universe, and buildings. Up and down the halls conversations were loudly and hurriedly spoken; about policies, about laws, and history, debate, religion, sex, computers, drugs, jokes, romantic interests- surprising all very teenage stuff.

A slender teen with glasses zoomed past the boys, hollering to an extremely pale, snickering teenager.

"_You incongruous, mad trickster! It's no wonder your main field of knowledge is just an old kingdom!" _

The pale boy stuck out his tongue and dangled what seemed like a diary, or notebook out in the air.

The four-eyed brunette face reddened. _"I'm going to get you!" _

The Vargas boys turned to each other. Feliciano's mouth popped open in shock. Lovino just closed his eyes and spoke.

"I hate this place."

_"Hey, hey!" _An interestingly accented man called. "You're the newbies, aren't you?"

Lovino eyed the man with a frustrated glaze.

"I can sort of tell. You're the only sane ones here."

Lovino looked him up and down. He was pretty cute.

He had a light tan, dark hair, and green eyes.

Lovino looked again. _Very pretty cute, _he decided.

"You two lovely boys are in the political sector of this mess, I was told. So am I, let me show you to our rooms." He beamed so wide, it was almost stupid.

He showed them the Conference Room, which consisted of a huge, white oblong table on red carpet. Four huge windows in the back gave a view of the busy city of Miami Beach. In the corner was a bust head of some person, and there were a few paintings of some things. The room was mostly empty space.

He showed them to the cafeteria. The amount of teenagers crowded in it disgusted him.

As they carefully maneuvered themselves through the filled halls, Lovino found himself getting more and more agitated.

He wasn't a hard person to make snap, so he tried his hardest to keep calm.

"Here's the lounge room for us historians."

The room was comfortable. A few people poured coffee into Styrofoam cups, and some relaxed on the pretty pink couches. There were even some beanbags. Which Lovino thought was pretty cool, but Feliciano _adored. _

Lovino's muscles relaxed.

_"No way, you cheese-eating surrender monkey!" _

Lovino jolted, his eyes widened.

"Uh," Antonio led the two out, "Well, sometimes the discussions can get quite heated here."

"Anyway," the Spaniard sputtered, "I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. It's been so nice meeting you. Welcome to House of Angels."

Lovino deadpanned. "_House of Angels? That's _the damned name?"

Antonio laughed. "Well, yes. It's sort of ironic, with such a scientific community. It kind of makes the religious here a bit bitter….I'm not really sure why it's named that, really."

Lovino shook his head.


	5. Blue Scarf

Roma had been able to get Feliciano enthused about House of Angels.

_'Oh, what great fun it will be_'he had cried on the phone.

_You two are so lucky! _He had said.

_My boy is _that _bright. I knew it! _

Lovino grumbled.

The Conference Room seemed loud and useless. People bickered. A Greek boy slept. His brother offered half-witted solutions.

The only work that was done had been done when a tense German shouted at everyone.

Lovino had not taken the time to learn names.

Supposedly, House of Angels was meant to be educational and innovative.

_'Using today's youth, seeing yesterday's fault, and sharpening tomorrow's minds.'_

It was on every single banner and poster in this place.

The German kept on in his drab tone. "We've been witnessing some unusual calls from another dimension. They've been practically inaudible."

"I say we stop answers calls from though guys!" A small young man who wore a dark green jacket and had blond hair and mint green eyes shouted. "The best way to keep our world safe is by blocking out all these unnecessaries!"

"_Unnecessaries _isn't a word!" Someone shouted.

"Haven't you ever heard of a prefix?" Someone shouted back.

"Look, _Ballsack Zwingli, _we've ought to help out other dimensions. That means they'll help us out too, man!" A man with glasses and light blond hair yelled. His lunch was at the table; it was a burger and soda. "We could totally start trading with these guys, and if we offer them protection we might be able to get a lot of cool shit, bro. Like oil, labor, or some other shit. Anyway, Ballsack, what if those dudes really need help? We'd have to save them, of course. How could you be so uncool?"

"Ballsack" turned pink and grimaced; his words came up crisp and angrily.

"I'm looking out for _our world!_ Those dimensions are dangerous and a liability! We've got enough problems of own!"

The German boy had been getting tenser by the moment.

"Be quiet!" He shouted, "We're not even sure what the problem is, but when and if it arrives we've got to learn to work collaboratively!"

Lovino leaned back in his chair and dug his nails into his sides. It was no secret that god had strung him too tightly, and this was just unneeded stress.

The bell rung loudly and shrilly. It made him smile a little. _Freedom._

He felt drained, and cheated. Cheated of his summer. He had to deal with the stress of school ten months out of the year, but now his summer had been stolen from him too.

He found himself becoming less happy by the day. The mornings were dull and nights were duller. He felt trapped. He wanted to be out at the beach, finally making friends, and enjoying himself.

The pressures of having to work pressed on his shoulders. _Life had to be a little fairer than this. _

He exited the blue building into the sunny day. His cheery brother by his side, and an excited Spaniard jogging behind them.

"Lovino! Lovino! Lovino!"

The teen was stunned. What unfinished business could the two have? Did he leave his cell in the Conference Room?

The older boy caught up and panted. "You…you…" he frowned, and then looked into the air as if trying to contemplate something.

"Didn't your ma ever teach you to think about what you're going to say before you say it?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." He smiled awkwardly. "Well, you know…it's _pretty _dangerous 'round these parts."

Lovino's mind flipped upside down. Since when were these parts dangerous? Did some crime happen while they were in Sicily?

It was Miami Beach for crying out loud. Did some homosexual steal hair products from Elizabeth's Beauty Spa?

"Wha…? Wha…?"

Feliciano giggled and blushed at his oblivious brother.

"_We'd love _for you to accompany us home, mister Carriedo!" He laughed loudly and interlocked their arms. Lovino blushed with jealously. His brother always had a good eye for cute boys. And even though Feliciano was loud and childish, there was something extravagant and irresistible about him. He had a big white happy smile and curious, blissful eyes. He always had this…sweet, airy aroma around him. Sure, he acted downright obtuse sometimes, but men liked that.

Lovino eyed the tan man. He had to watch this one _extra _carefully. He couldn't have this Spanish-speaking fellow wooing and corrupting the kid.

Fourteen was the age that Lovino had had his first relationship. And that was way too young. That older man showed him things that a fourteen year old shouldn't have seen. He couldn't have Feliciano follow the exact same path.

The three boys walked through the heated day.

Feliciano asked Antonio about his hobbies, likes and dislikes.

The two entertained each other. They laughed. Feliciano laughed loudly, but it didn't seem to both Antonio- who was also laughing loudly.

Feliciano ran ahead of them, up the gravel path to the large mahogany doors that marked the start of their home. He swung the great doors open.

"Come in, Antonio!" He invited, much to the older brother's dismay. "We have farfalloni, linguine, even _fiori! _We have coffee, and sweets, and _vino." _

Lovino blushed and called after the boy running off into the house.

"Don't touch grandpa's vino!"

Antonio chuckled, looking pleased with the situation. He entered the house and politely complimented it.  
"You two take a seat," Feliciano insisted, taking the boy's hand and leading him to the couch. "I'll go prepare our meal. Linguine made in white wine and oil? With Shrimp? Hm?"

"I'll help you…" Lovino mumbled.  
"No, no, you _sit_." Feliciano nodded and jolted to the kitchen.

"Amoreggiare!" Lovino sat on the couch and shouted. "Esibizionista!"

Feliciano didn't respond, and Lovino shook his head and shouted: "Non pensarci! Lui è troppo vecchio!"

It was silent for a moment. Then Feliciano giggled back in a condescending tone. "Ragazzo ignaro."

Lovino's cheeks heated, and he knew he was blushing a deep red.

How could his brother insult him like that?

Antonio looked at him with happy green eyes. "You're so red! That's adorable!"

Lovino felt his cheeks get hotter. He didn't know whether to be complimented or offended. Was he making fun of him?

He swatted his hand and scowled. "Don't talk to me like that in my house."

Antonio looked briefly confused, but then laughed. "Yes, captain!"

Lovino turned away, trying to hide his confused and red face. "Stop being a goof, Antonio!"

Antonio laughed some more. "So, Lovino, I've learned about a lot about your brother. Painting, cooking, the guitar. That's a multitalented man."

Lovino snorted. He could see through this teen now. He was trying to get into his brother's pants. His brother was pretty cute, cultured, and fun. It was no surprise. Grandpa always said he was the most bello bambino.

"Yeah, it's pretty impressive for a fourteen year old," Lovino said animatedly, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen this year. How about you, señor?"

"Sixteen…"

"Great. Great year. Do you have any hobbies?"

He shrugged in a reclusive manner.

"Oh come on!"

Lovino snorted, a bit amused. "I don't know…I guess the same as my brother…just different flavors, I guess." The hazel-eyed teen looked at his hands, they lightly shook with nervousness. He didn't know why he got nervous with people. He was never as social as his brother. Not that his brother had many friends, anyway. "I like plays and movies _a lot_."

"What kinds of movies and plays?"

"I don't know," he tensed up. He almost felt interrogated. "Les Miserables, all of Shakespeare's- especially Othello, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, don't give me Wicked or Cats, I want something that makes me feel bitter and romantic." He sniffed and continued with movies, "Bella e Vita, the Truman show, The Big Fish, Showgirls, Battle Royale, the list goes on and on."

"I haven't seen any of those."

Lovino glanced at him, looked down and glanced at him again. He almost felt like writing him off, he was missing the key to a great mind. The classics.

"That's ridiculous! You're…you're a terrible bastard!"

Antonio laughed heartedly.

"You're not supposed to laugh at that, weirdo bastard."

Antonio smiled happily. "So, it's just you two living here all alone?"

"Don't ask creepy question."

He apologized, "It was just curiosity."

"Well…my grandpa lives with us usually…" He grumbled.

"Where are your mom and dad?"

Lovino couldn't believe he'd ask such a personal question. Maybe he assumed the best.

"Dinner's done!" His brother practically fell out of the kitchen and squealed, "_Buon appetito." _

He set the table, and the three settled in.

It was useless dinner talk, until the green-eyed idiot had to bring up their parents again.

"Oh…" Feliciano said in his usual tone, "Ma and babbo died in Fano, Italy."

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine," Feliciano smiled. "I mean. We were so young. How old was I, Lovino? Ah…about five or six, yes?"

Lovino couldn't help but dribble his water.

A pang struck his heart, and chills ran down his spin. How could Feliciano say that about their parents? Like their deaths were nothing?

"You were six, Feli."

He could almost slap the boy. The disrespect to the dead, and to their parents. It's like he didn't care about them at all.

"Six is still old enough to remember," their guest said cautiously.

"Yeah, but honestly, I hardly remember their faces. Anyway, Lovino got most of their stuff, since he's the oldest or whatever. All I got was ma's pretty jeweled comb, mirror and scarf."

Lovino reddened with anger and shame. All_ he got was ma's scarf?_

Their ma wore that scarf everyday. It probably still had her scent.

"If it's any consolation, I lost my mom when I was three. I don't remember anything about her, either. Which I guess is comfort in it's own."

"Isn't it?" Feliciano sighed. "Plus, we've got _nonno!_ He's just the best, isn't he Lovino?"

Feliciano went on and on, "He's super fun and handsome. He's always teaching me new things and he's really cool. He taught me how to paint, and how to fight- even though I'm not very good at it. He's just the best, isn't he Lovino?"

"He's fucking peachy," he snapped. All this talk was giving him a headache.

Feliciano's face became soft and clueless. It was a common face of his brother's. He made it when he saw someone angry or sad. Sometimes Lovino thought the face was cute, but other times he loathed it. It was so _childish. _Sometimes he felt like it was when they were kids and Feliciano used to play innocent to avoid trouble.

"Yeah, I'm just super tired." He grumped, "You guys' have fun, I'm going to sleep."

"_No!" _Feliciano whined. "Don't leave big brother. We're having so much fun."

"Shut up!" He said getting up, and going to his room. "I'm really tired."

His brother made an "aw" sound and bid him goodnight.

He couldn't look back the table. He was flaming red. Sometimes he just got too sensitive.

As he shut his door, he could still hear them talk.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Feliciano said sadly. "Lovino can be so abrupt sometimes."

He quaked in anger.


End file.
